


Round Two

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The synth returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Two

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Business Associate #2 under the pen name Duval and Gillian Holt.

_"My mind's on other things, and… my heart's afraid."_

 

          "What's got Harrison so…"  Suzanne paused in the Cottage's basement computer lab, searching for the right word to describe the astrophysicist's recent behavior.

          "Weird?" Ironhorse suggested with a half-grin.  Striding past the scientist to the small corner table, he appropriated a cup and poured himself some coffee.

          " _Wired_ is more like it," Norton countered, intently watching the screen of his computer terminal.  "Pour me one?"

          "Coming up," the soldier replied amicably.

          Suzanne nodded.  "It's like he's building up to some sort of emotional… explosion."

          Ironhorse gave her a quizzical look.  "I don't think it's that bad, Suzanne."

          Drake shrugged.  "The Doc's just a little stressed, but maybe we all should be, huh?"

          The microbiologist frowned.  "Am I missing something?  Besides the overwhelming alien activity we've been having recently?"

          Ironhorse handed a full cup to the computer expert.  "That's usually my line, Doctor."  Suzanne grinned and shook her head as he motioned to the pot.

          "Take a look at this, guys," Drake said after a sip and satisfied sigh.

          The pair moved closer, peering at the screen over Norton's shoulder.  "What is this?" the colonel asked, trying to make sense of the undulating patterns that played randomly across the monitor.

          "That is the flux in the Earth's magnetic field – dancing ley lines."

          "And it's making Harrison weirder than normal?" Ironhorse questioned skeptically.

          Norton grinned, his fingers tapping across the keyboard.  "Not exactly, but…" A date blinked on in the lower right corner of the screen, but the same undulating patterns remained.  "Harrison's had me working on this for about two weeks now, and…"

          "What?" Suzanne asked, a slight edge of exasperation to her voice.  She recanted.  "I mean, why's Harrison so interested in the Earth's magnetic field?  He hasn't said anything to me."

          "I was just getting to that.  This…" Norton said, reaching out to thump the screen, "…is what the field looked like exactly three hundred and sixty-one and a half days ago, and this…"  He tapped the keys again, only the date shifting in the corner.  "…is what it looks like, right now.  It's almost exactly the same, and I mean within-less-than-one-percent, the same."

          "So?" Ironhorse prompted.  "What is it, Norton?"

          Norton sighed heavily and shook his head.  "What happened a year ago tomorrow?"

          The coffee in Ironhorse's stomach abruptly turned to a hard lump of ice.  "Kitara," he said softly, the situation coming into sharp focus.  "It's the date we estimated for her first arrival."

          Suzanne's head snapped up, and she stared at the colonel.  "You're right, it _has_ been a year.  I… forgot."

          "A year day after tomorrow," Norton corrected.  "And she said she'd be back _inside_ of a year."

          "With help," Suzanne added.  "No wonder Harrison's been acting so strange. I should have remembered, but with all the recent activity, it entirely slipped my mind."

          Ironhorse turned, abandoning his cup next to the machine.  "We need to have a talk with Harrison."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          He sat at the edge of the pond, his legs folded under him on the large flat stone he'd found on his first day as a resident of the Cottage.  During those first few months he'd retreated to the location often to escape the others, but over time it slowly ceased to be a place of withdrawal, becoming instead a place to gather his thoughts or sort through problems.

          Fingering the same smooth, flat stone that he had fastidiously picked out of the damp ground nearly an hour earlier, the scientist tried to quell the fear that continued to build in every nook and cranny of his being.

          Kitara would be back.  He knew it.

          And she would have another of her kind.

          She and her companion might have already returned and begun killing Mor'taxans while he sat and did nothing…  Not that he had the slightest idea what that "something" might be, or any objections to the nature of the Synth's activity, but…

          Kitara…  Synthetic beings…  Living artificial intelligence.

          She was something more, and something less, than human.

          No human, no living being with a soul, could have done what she had to Paul, he thought angrily.  Mind rape, the Army psychologist had called it.

          The aftermath had propelled all of them through hell, but Paul had put the violation in perspective, and dealt with it.[1]  He had gone on.

          _So why can't I?_ Blackwood asked himself, and again failed to find an answer.

          He watched the Cottage's lone swan glide silently across the still water.  _Is this the beginning of another war?_ he silently asked the bird.  _Are we going to have to fight the Mor'taxans and the Synths now?  How can we possibly win?  They'll destroy the planet and us right along with them.  If we could just reason with one of them…_

          The sounds of grass-muted footsteps stilled the depressing chain of thoughts and Blackwood flung the rock out, skipping it across the water, where it sank near the middle.

          "Harrison?"

          He didn't turn around.  "Yes, Paul."

          "We need to talk."

          A hand descended on Blackwood's shoulder, and he felt the fingers massage his muscles gently.

          "Why didn't you say something earlier?" Ironhorse asked.

          "Why, so we could all worry together?  You have enough on your mind with all the recent activity."

          "Sometimes it's better to worry."  The fingers closed tighter.  "I think I wanted to forget."

          Paul stepped around and extended a hand.  Harrison accepted it, allowing Ironhorse to tug him to his feet.  "God, Paul… I'm scared."

          Ironhorse pulled him into a tight hug.  It was the first time the soldier had ever touched him so intimately where one of the Omegans might see them.  That alone increased Harrison's fear, and the softly whispered, "Me, too," didn't help either.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "…but what _can_ we do?" Blackwood implored the other three Project members as he paced the space in front of the living room couch.  "You saw what Kitara did to the aliens.  She's armed, and dangerous.  My God, she's got nuclear weapons!"

          "But she's programmed _not_ to harm humans," Suzanne countered, pulling her feet up so they wouldn't be trampled on.  "That gives us an advantage, at least for now.  If we could study her—"

          "We have no guarantees that directive won't be… corrected this time around," Ironhorse cut in, his voice overly controlled.  Sitting in the wing-backed chair closest to the cold hearth, he stared intently into his half-empty coffee cup.

          "But she's got no way of knowing you beat her mind block, Colonel," Norton argued, rolling Gertrude out of Harrison's pace track – and Suzanne complained about him?  "So there's no reason for her to suspect that we know what they're really after."

          "And if she decides to check?" the colonel countered.

          "Maybe we can reason with Kitara and her people," Blackwood stated, coming to a momentary pause in front of the cold fireplace.  "If she defeats the Mor'taxans, it might stop the second invasion."

          "But what if she does know we've discovered the truth, or suspects, or just doesn't give a damn, Harrison?"  Ironhorse's head came up.  "We can't risk it.  We have to assume that Kitara and whatever _machine_ she drags along are as dangerous as the aliens we've been fighting – as dangerous as the ones who are coming."

          "And rule out any chance for a dialogue?" Blackwood snapped, his voice climbing.  "Paul, we're facing another invasion in the near future.  _Millions_ more.  If we can negotiate a peace with Kitara's people—"

          The colonel turned hardened eyes on the scientist, cutting him off.  "You've seen the kind of dialogue Kitara's interested in, Doctor.  It's entirely one-sided."

          "Paul's right," Suzanne said, leaning forward to enforce her point.  "She's _not_ our friend and she and her creators don't belong here anymore than the Mor'taxans.  And I for one would not like to end up some alien's… cow!"

          Blackwood's glare shifted from the colonel to Suzanne.

          "Look, arguing isn't getting us anywhere," Norton said, trying to calm the choppy emotional waters.  "She hasn't come back, and there's only—"

          A burst of music interrupted the hacker and four heads swiveled in unison to stare in the direction of the stairs.

          " _What_ is that?" Suzanne asked.

          "Rap," Norton responded seriously.  "I rigged up a different tune in case—"

          "In case Kitara returned," Blackwood finished his voice echoing with hollow hopelessness.

          "'Fraid so, Doc."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Above an empty hilltop outside Carson City, Nevada, a swirl of color and light wove itself into a large disc that hung shimmering just above the grass-covered knoll.

          Extending down from the nearby Sierra Nevada mountains, hugging around the hill and the surrounding countryside, a thunderstorm continued, undisturbed by the unusual phenomenon.

          A beam of intensely bright light dropped from the disc to contact the earth, then sprang back, a flash of lightning lashing out at the same time, competing for a moment to blind any onlookers who might have witnessed the strange event.

          The maelstrom of color and light blinked out, leaving behind two figures and the growl of thunder.

          The two women standing side by side on the hilltop were well built in a feminine, yet athletic way.  They were also a study in contrasts; a yin and yang of femininity.  Kitara, her long black hair falling over the same black bodysuit and calf-length brown coat she had worn on her first mission to Earth, presented a more chilling vision than her companion.

          The Second had overly-short gold-blonde hair and a long white leather duster, and cut an imminently more approachable figure.  The deep forest-green bodysuit she wore under the coat shimmered where it was visible in the strobing light from the storm.

          Kitara raised her hand and engaged her communications device.  "Arrival complete.  Beginning mission.  Day one."  The com-link faded, and she turned to her companion.  "We must locate the one called Paul Ironhorse."

          "Yes," the blonde Synth replied with a nod.  "We must find the Advocacy, and destroy them."

          "Yes," Kitara acknowledged, the slightest trace of pleasure staining her voice. She looked over the landscape, her head tilting distractedly.  "This is in-correct."

 

 

 

          The Second made the same examination.  "Yes.  It is."

          "We have arrived at an alternate location.  We must gather information."

          The blonde blinked and nodded her acknowledgement to Kitara as an odd jolt of energy surged through her circuits.  The unknown sensation registered, but she could find no cause for it in an initial scan of her sensors.

          "Agreed."

          The pair stalked off the hill, uncaring of the rain that began to pelt their overcoats.  Kitara contacted the masters on the home planet as they proceeded, informing them of the mishap.

          The Second reviewed her data files on Paul Ironhorse, retrieved from Kitara and downloaded to her memory.  She reviewed the information on Earth, and then the familiar Mor'taxan enemy she had faced on other planets.  When the analysis was completed she began a diagnostic.

          The evaluation completed, the Second reached an impasse.  Nothing accounted for the new readings she still monitored.  Filing it away for continued examination later, she followed Kitara toward the lights in the near distance.  They would reach the human population cluster in one hour seventeen minutes as the humans measured time.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Where is she?" Blackwood asked, leaning over Norton's shoulder and staring intently at the computer monitor.

          "I'm workin' as fast as I can, Doc," Norton muttered, trying to coax the Cray to speed up its analysis and cross referencing tasks.

          Suzanne and Ironhorse stood back, waiting.  They exchanged a brief glance, and the microbiologist was sure she saw something in the colonel's eyes she had never seen before – terror.  She shivered uncontrollably and folded her arms over her chest, her fingers absently rubbing her chest where she had been shot the first time Kitara visited.  The time she'd… died.

          "There!" Norton said, sitting back and forcing Blackwood to straighten.  "It's an unpopulated area just northeast of Carson City, Nevada."

          "Not the fairgrounds?" Blackwood questioned more to himself than the hacker.  He paced off several steps, then stopped and folded his arms tight across his chest.  "Okay, that makes sense.  We might have been watching the fairgrounds, waiting for her."

          "Why should she care?" Suzanne asked, then added sarcastically, "She's our friend."

          "You're sure it's Kitara?" Ironhorse asked, taking Blackwood's place behind Drake.

          The microbiologist frowned as her question was seemingly dismissed.

          "The flux in the magnetic readings is damned near one-hundred percent, big guy.  It _wasn't_ a meteorite."

          "The minor difference in the readings might be due to the presence of a second Synth," Blackwood offered.

          "If there's a second," the colonel countered.

          "I hope he's wrong, too, Paul, but I don't think we should count on it," Suzanne reluctantly admitted.  "We better assume that she has a friend and that they're both armed…"  She looked pointedly at Blackwood.  "…and dangerous."

          "I'll arrange the transportation," Ironhorse said, stepping up next to the microbiologist and taking her shoulders in his hands.  "But I want you to stay with Norton and an Omega detachment, Suzanne.  They'll get all of you loaded and to a safe house I don't know about."

          "But—"

          "Please," he interrupted, uncharacteristically prefacing the explanation.  "She got you killed once.  I _don't_ want to risk it a second time.  And I know she knows where the Cottage is."

          "He's right, Suzanne," Harrison concurred.

          "All right," she agreed reluctantly.  "But I don't have to like it."  She looked to Blackwood.  "What about you?"

          Before he could comment, Ironhorse cut in.  "Harrison, I'd like you to stay, too, but I suppose that's too much to hope for?"

          "You know me too well, Colonel," Harrison said, patting Ironhorse on the shoulder as he walked past him on the way to grab his backpack.  "I'll be ready to go in five."

          "That's what I thought," Ironhorse muttered, walking over to pick up the phone and punch out the number at the coach house.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Remember nothing," Kitara commanded, the palm of her hand striking the woman's forehead.

          The only witness to the destruction of three Mor'taxans concealed in their human hosts, the aerobics instructor fell back against the wall of the parking garage, sliding down to rest in a semi-conscious heap.  She moaned.

          "You have harmed the female," the blonde stated.  "She is in pain."

          "She will survive."

          "We must preserve human life energy," the Second corrected.

          "Yes.  Preserve," Kitara acknowledged.  "They cannot know of our mission.  They would inter-fere.  Human life energy must be protected.  We must find other Mor'taxans.  Their leaders will come as before."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The mobile phone lying between the two men on the Bronco's seat rang.  Harrison looked away from the rolling scrubland and to his companion.  Ironhorse nodded.

          "Talk to me, Norton."

          "Doc, listen, I just picked this up on the National Crime Network.  Six people have been killed in Carson City, Nevada.  And another three in a little town called Truckee near the California-Nevada border.  _And_ , the descriptions of what was left of the bodies seal it.  It's our aliens.  It looks like Kitara's headed west."

          "Okay, we'll head for Carson City and Truckee next," Harrison told him.  "We didn't find anything concrete at the landing sight."

          "Keep in touch, okay?" Suzanne's voice asked.  "Oh, and tell Paul Debi says hello, and this place needs a better coffee pot if we're going to be stuck here, waiting."

          "Will do."

          "Well?" Ironhorse asked after the astrophysicist laid the phone back on the seat.

          "Suzanne doesn't like the accommodations, but Norton said, Truckee.  It seems Kitara is beginning her hunt again – six in Carson City, three in Truckee.  We'll be able to follow the trail of alien bodies to her and any other Synth she might've brought along."

          The colonel nodded, his fingers wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.  Harrison wished he could smooth away the tension that knotted Paul's neck and jaw, but there was nothing he could say.  Reaching out, he laid his arm along the back of the seat, letting his hand rest gently on Ironhorse's shoulder.

          "You're still convinced we have to go in shooting?"

          "You have any better ideas?" Ironhorse asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

          "Talk, Paul.  We talk to her, try to make her understand that we just want to be left in peace."

          "My people said that for four hundred years, Harrison, but those in power never listened.  We've been over this.  She's a machine.  How can you reason with a machine?"

          Harrison scooted closer and turned so he could look at Ironhorse, his hand remaining firmly in place.  "Paul, as a species we're only beginning to understand the possibilities inherent in artificial intelligence.  We can't assume that Kitara and her kind are simple, unthinking collections of wires and computer chips.  We have 'smart' computers now, here.  A synthetic, cybernetic being like Kitara is light years beyond what we can understand."

          "Exactly my point," the colonel argued, glancing sideways to the scientist.  "We don't know what she's capable of, but we do know why she's here.  We find her, I call in Omega and we blow her and her friend away."

          "I know she's a threat, but wouldn't it be irresponsible if we didn't at least make some kind of effort to talk to her and her… creators?  We do share a common enemy."

          The one eyebrow Blackwood could see elevated.  "Do we, or are the Mor'taxans simply competitors for a highly prized commodity?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The second Synth walked beside Kitara, but she was no longer focused on the mission.  Instead she allowed herself the distraction of observing the energies emanating from the humans she passed.  Their auras grew clearer, ebbing and flowing in intensity and endless diversity.  It was overwhelming, not at all the clear, nondescript aura the Mor'taxans gave off in their human shells.

          The amount of incoming information nearly overloaded the Second, and she found herself screening out those energies that were too painful.

          _Painful?_ she thought, her confusion growing.  _I feel no pain.  I should not be confused.  I should not be thinking this . What is happening to me?_

          A particularly strong flux caused the Second to focus across the street on a small female child standing near an adult of the same sex.  The Second felt the small human's fear – her mother arguing with another, older woman.  Trying to step away from the adults, the child was caught by the hand and yanked back to stand next to her mother.  The girl began to cry.

          The Synth was drawn to the teary creature before she even realized she'd left Kitara's side.  Kneeling before the small girl, the Second smiled, tilting her head to one side as the child's energy shifted to something that was not fear, but the Synth had no name for it.  She searched the patterns stored from Paul Ironhorse, comparing the energy emanations with those from the child, and concluded the small female was curious.

          "Who— Who are you?" the little girl asked in a whisper.

          "I am Keleah," she replied.

          "Lady, just what do you think you're doin'?" the child's mother snapped.

          This female was angry.  Keleah was familiar with that energy pattern.  Paul Ironhorse had projected a strong anger.

          "She was, frightened," Keleah stated matter-of-factly.  "Why do you frighten the child?"

          "Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you are, but you better get outta here. Leave me and my kid alone."

          "Come," Kitara said, her hand descending to rest on the Second's shoulder.  "We will go."

          The child's mother looked at Kitara, and took an involuntary step backward.  Fear again.  Keleah stood, but smiled at the child, who smiled back.  With a small nod to the little girl, the Second turned and continued on her mission.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Harrison stalked into the comfortable hotel room, shoving his bag into the first empty chair he found.  Proceeding to the large window, he pulled the curtains back and stared down at the Placerville parking lot.

          Ironhorse followed Blackwood in, carrying his bag to the luggage stand waiting in the walk-in closet and depositing it there.  He rummaged in the duffel for a moment.  Stepping out, he spared one glance at Harrison before mumbling, "I'm taking a shower," and disappeared into the bathroom.

          He stripped out of his travel-creased clothes while he waited for the water to get hot.  When the steam started to curl up and over the top of the curtain, Paul pulled it open and stepped in.

          Easing under the pelting spray, he bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting the heat seep into his dully aching muscles.

          A brief blast of cold air alerted him to Blackwood's presence in the room, and he wasn't surprised when the scientist stepped into the shower with him.

          Paul listened as Harrison picked up the soap and worked lather in his hands.  It felt good when the scientist spread the soap across his shoulders, massaging the sore muscles.

          "Much better than a Motel Six, isn't it," Harrison said softly.

          "Much," Paul sighed, remembering the fiasco, but letting the pleasurable sensations Harrison's hands were evoking help wash away some of his anxiety.

          Ironhorse smiled thinly when Harrison moved closer, pressing up against his back while he reached over and pushed soap down the soldier's chest, the hot water immediately carrying it away.  It felt good – safe and warm.  There were times Ironhorse wondered if he would ever feel really safe again.

          Blackwood's hands strayed to the colonel's narrow hips, and Ironhorse stepped away as far as the tight confines of the shower stall would allow.

          "Paul?" Harrison asked worriedly.

          "I'm fine," the soldier replied, sticking out his hand for the bar of soap.  Blackwood handed it over.  "Let's trade places so I can finish washing up."

          Harrison nodded, and moved in to take Paul's place under the nozzle.  He let the water run over his chest and back while he watched Ironhorse suds his chest, abdomen and legs.  The soldier turned away to wash himself, but he could feel Harrison's gaze lingering on him.

          Sooner or later he had to talk to the man.  Harrison would not think less of him.  He would understand the fear – the fear that kept creeping into his soul like a cold wind through a cracked window.

          Could he face her?  Could he stop Kitara from violating him a second time?

          There was no choice.  He had a mission, a duty to carry out.  He had to try.  He'd learned a lot since she came the first time.  Things he never expected to make part of his life.  But now they were.  His grandfather had told Paul he could not deny his heritage, and he had been right.  As much as Paul wanted to deny his abilities, he was a shaman of sorts, and that was the only thing he had to use against Kitara.

          _Grandfather, give me courage,_ he asked silently _.  Please._

          "Paul?"

          "Huh?" he blinked and shook his head to move the dripping black hair out of his eyes.  "Sorry.  Mind if I rinse?"

          "No, go ahead.  I'm through," Harrison said, stepping aside, waiting while Ironhorse finished and turned off the water.

          Reaching out, Paul pulled the curtain open and reached for two of the towels resting in a rack mounted on the wall.  He handed one to Harrison.

          When he was dry, Paul stepped out of the tub and headed for the change of clothes lying on the sink counter.  Harrison's hand reached out, resting on his to stop him.

          "Wait, Paul," the scientist said, kissing the back of his neck.

          "Harrison, no."

          Blackwood looked up and over Ironhorse's shoulder, meeting the black gaze in the foggy mirror.  "Why?"

          Paul's gaze dropped.  "My mind's on other things… and my heart's afraid."

          Harrison's arms closed around his shoulders in a strong but brief hug.  "I know.  And I'm here, if you need me."

          Paul nodded once.  With a gust of cold air Harrison stepped out of the room, leaving him alone.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah followed behind Kitara, reconstructing the information that had been downloaded from the latter – information on Paul Ironhorse that had made no sense when she'd first reviewed the files outside Carson City.

          Many of the fragmented bits and pieces of information and energy fluctuations were still indecipherable, but Keleah studied the sequence in which they occurred, and some became clear.  It frightened her.  How could she understand that which was incomprehensible?

          The new catalog of emotions and feelings Ironhorse had experienced startled the Second.  If they were true, then Kitara had done the human harm.  That went against their programming.  They were not permitted to harm the humans, unless they uncovered their true destiny under Quar'toan rule.  The masters could not be stopped, or interfered with.

          There were still many things in the information that made no sense to Keleah.  There was something missing, she knew.  There was some key still necessary to unlock the code of these last undecipherable segments.  If she could just find it…

          She abruptly shut the thought off.  What she was doing could be considered treason.  She had no authority to question Kitara or the masters.  She had a mission.  What was to ultimately become of the humans was of no concern to her.  If the probe caused them some harm, it was unintentional.  It was necessary for her and Kitara to carry out the masters' wishes.

          Still, she could not force the fear and nagging doubts away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Blackwood paced in the small hotel room they presently occupied while they investigated the latest reports of bodies found in Modesto, California.  The alien body count had continued to grow, and with it the two men's uneasiness.  The count was up to forty-seven in twelve towns and cities, some of which the two Project members had never heard of.  The majority had been centered in the mining communities of the Sierra Nevadas, but now they seemed to be headed into California's central valley.

          "Harrison, we're not getting ahead of these reports.  We can't.  We don't know where they'll show up next," Ironhorse argued from his seat at the end of one of the two beds in the hotel room.  He stared at Blackwood.  "We have other things that have to be done, Harrison.  There's no way to anticipate where they'll be next…"  He trailed off, unsure if the scientist was even listening to him.  "If nothing else, at least Kitara's destroying the enemy," he concluded in a frustrated sigh.  "Harrison, are you hearing any of this?"

          The light trill of the mobile phone stilled Blackwood's response.  "Phone," he announced unnecessarily, reaching for the instrument.

          "Doc?"

          "Yes, Norton, what have you got?"

          "Trouble, if I'm any judge," was the reply.

          "Explain," the astrophysicist urged, dropping down to sit on the second bed.

          "I'm picking up transmissions from the _same_ warehouse that Kitara grabbed Ironhorse from last year.  What do you think it means?"

          "Just what I told you – trouble."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The military commander approached his leaders cautiously.  They had been foul spirits of late.  "Advocates, we are receiving communications from along the California coast."

          "California coast?" the female member of the triumvirate questioned.  "We have no operations there at this time.  Our efforts have been inland."

          "The communications are originating from the same location where the humans and the Synth attempted to lure us into their trap a year ago," the commander explained.

          "The Synth?" the older male echoed.  "That could explain why several of our field units have failed to report at their appointed time."

          "Will we never be rid of that menace?" the younger male asked.  "Those from Qar'to want these humans as their next food source.  They will drain the population, then strip the planet of its natural resources.  They cannot be allowed to destroy what will one day be our home, the home of those who come, and the Eternal.  We will live life immortal, here."

          "Send a unit," the female Advocate commanded.  "We must see who is there, transmitting these messages.  We must know if the humans are foolish enough to enter into an alliance with those from Qar'to."

          The commander bowed and backed away.  He would see to it he did not repeat the same mistakes his predecessor had when the Synth first arrived.  He had no desire to join the former commander in eternal afterlife.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Kitara stood, surveying the alien enemy who lay scattered and decomposing across the warehouse's dusty floor.  "We have not found the Advocacy.  They do not come.  We must find Ironhorse."

          "Yes," Keleah replied.  Kitara was the mission commander, and as Second, she had been programmed to follow any orders Kitara might give.  "He is looking for you," she said.  "The Mor'taxans we have destroyed will tell him you have re-turned."

          Kitara nodded mechanically.  "Yes.  I had thought he would be here."

          Keleah leaned back against one of the walls.  "We will wait."

          "No.  We will go to that location where the Advocacy was lured out before."  Kitara tilted her head slightly.  "He will come.  Perhaps the Advocacy will come… as well."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Except for the scattered remains of six aliens, there was nothing of interest in the warehouse.  Ironhorse forced back a chill and continued through the semi-darkness.  Completed and half-completed stuffed creations watched his movement with vacant eyes.  The déjà vu feeling he'd been experiencing grew stronger.  Something was going to break, and soon.

          The muffled warble of the mobile phone told him sooner than he'd anticipated.  "Ironhorse here," the colonel said after pulling the instrument free of his jacket pocket.

          "Stravakos, sir.  We have activity at the fairgrounds."

          "She did head for the fairgrounds," the colonel called to Blackwood, then lifted the phone back to talk to Stravakos, continuing, "We're on our way, Sergeant. Keep the building under surveillance, but do not, repeat, _do not_ engage."

          "Yes, sir."

          "Let's go, Harrison!"

          Blackwood joined Ironhorse as the colonel jogged for the door.  They headed directly for the truck.  Tossing the phone onto the Bronco's seat, Ironhorse climbed behind the wheel and waited for Blackwood.  Six days and they had followed a trail of dead aliens from Carson City back to San Francisco.  Six days he had fought the gnawing fear that clawed at his gut, but no more.  He would face her – face his terror.  She would not violate his mind a second time.

          "How long?" Harrison asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

          Ironhorse was already pulling away as the scientist tugged the door closed.  "Forty-five minutes.  Omega will remain in defensive positions."

          "Then what?"

          "Then we do what we have to, Harrison."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah sensed the blended alien enemy as they reached the outskirts of the fairgrounds.  "Those from Mortax are waiting for us," she announced.

          "Yes," Kitara replied, "but the Advocacy is not among them.  They are too a-fraid."  The Synth pivoted.  "Ironhorse will come.  He must not be harmed.  Clear the building, and go to the roof."

          "Yes," Keleah replied.  Watching her commander go, the Synth turned and proceeded into the large, airy building that was still under construction.  Her battle hum sang to life, and she felt a shiver of anticipation for the coming battle.  It was a new sensation, and one she was not at all sure she liked.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "We have them, Advocate," the envoy announced into her portable radio.  The military commander had failed to destroy the Synths at the warehouse.  It was now up to her to exterminate the miserable creatures.  "The Synth are at the fairgrounds, as you anticipated.  There are two of the loathsome creatures."

          "You have the disrupter weapon.  Destroy them, and bring their worthless remains to us," the female commanded.

          "We are nothing without your counsel," the envoy intoned.  "To life immortal."

          "To life immortal," the triumvirate echoed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Holy sh—"  Norton broke off, grabbing up the phone and  punching out the number to the mobile.  It rang, but no one answered.

          "What?" Suzanne asked, moving over to join the black man at the computer screen.  She still wasn't used to the new safe house, and the unfamiliar setting had left her jumpy and irritable.

          "The Synth are at the fairgrounds.  Omega called.  Looks like everybody's going to this shindig and I can't reach Harrison and Ironhorse to tell them they've got more party crashers on the way.  I just picked up three short bursts from the aliens."  He tossed his pen down, the instrument bouncing off the table top and onto the floor.

          Suzanne folded her arms across her chest and forced the wave of panic down.  "Most of Omega Squad's already at the fairgrounds, they should be able to deal with the aliens…"  She trailed off.  It sounded hollow even to her ears.

          "I hope you're right," was Norton's half-hearted reply.  "I really hate this sometimes."

          "Me, too," the microbiologist concurred.  A sly smile cut across her face.  "But…"

          "What?" Norton asked, his own smile already growing.  "Doc, what you're thinkin' gonna get us in some serious trouble."

          She shrugged.

          "You're right," he announced, swinging his wheelchair around and heading for the door.  "Gertrude, to the action!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "We should've expected the aliens to figure this out, too," Blackwood said as he followed the colonel to cover.  All around them gunfire echoed through the building, mingled with the unmistakable sound of a Synth.

          The Mor'taxans, Omegans and two Synths exchanged fire in a massive battle for survival, and the déjà vu feeling was uncanny for the two Project members.  The only missing elements were Suzanne and Norton.

          The Synth were there to destroy the aliens.  So was Omega.  If the two paired up for the time being, that was fine.  When the aliens were dead, then they'd deal with Kitara and her companion.

          Ironhorse scanned the open space, then crossed with Harrison following.  They reached the stairs leading to the roof.  A quick check and he started to the first landing.  Two more flights and they would be on the roof.  Uzi ready in one hand, he raised the radio to his lips with his free hand, depressed the switch, and said, "Red Leader to Red One, what's your situation, over?"

          The radio cracked and Stavrakos's voice echoed back, accompanied by the sound of automatic weapon fire.  "It's hot here, sir.  I'd say another ten to fifteen before we have 'em cleaned out."

          "Roger, Red One," Ironhorse said.  "Red Two, report, over."

          "Red Leader, this is Red Two," Coleman's crisp voice replied.  "All secure in the building, sir.  Repeat.  All clear on the ground floor."

          The radio crackled.  "First floor clear, sir."

          "Second floor clear, sir."

          It made sense that the men blocking the exit to the fairgrounds were getting the worst of the fight.  The Mor'taxans had appeared to be in retreat when they'd arrived, but the activation of Omega Squad had forced many of the aliens back into the building, and the fight had continued.

          "Roger.  Red three, leave a guard and assist Red One.  Red four, clear the roof," the colonel ordered, his eyes carefully scanning the area for enemy movement.

          "Roger, Red Leader," Coleman replied, already calling out the orders before she released the key on her radio.

          Blackwood leaned against the wall next to Ironhorse, finally catching his breath.  Paul had wanted him to stay behind in the Bronco, guarded and safe, but Harrison was determined that if Paul ran into Synths or aliens, it wasn't going to be alone.  Now he was regretting that decision.

          Unwilling to risk Harrison in open confrontation, Ironhorse had taken them away from the fiercest of the fighting.  However, the Mor'taxans were tenacious and occasionally skillful, and they had encountered several of the aliens alone, or in groups of twos or threes as they negotiated their way through the building.  Ironhorse had dispatched all the blended invaders with calm, careful efficiency, but he was running low on ammunition, and on luck.

          While the soldiers continued their fight, Blackwood and the colonel looked for Kitara.  Once the Mortaxans were neutralized, Ironhorse planned to call in the Omegans and capture or destroy the android and her helper.

          The odd humming the two Project members associated with the Synth continued to echo around them, causing Ironhorse to break out in a cold sweat.  "You hear that?"

          "Yeah," Harrison replied tightly.  "She sounds closer."

          Ironhorse nodded.  "Follow me," he instructed, easing into a crouch and making his way along the wall to the second landing.  Pausing at the corner, they checked the next flight and then moved up to the last landing.

          A short flight of ten steps led to a door that opened on the roof.

          Ironhorse stepped onto the landing and reached out to push Harrison back against the wall.  He nodded to a small service room, then crept forward, Blackwood following.

          In the small room, Keleah sank into a crouch, her hands snapping out.  The move, unlike Kitara's more dramatic mode of attack, reminded Ironhorse of someone hurling shurikin, the deadly throwing stars popular in the Orient and among Kung Fu film enthusiasts.  But what she threw was more deadly than the pointed metal pieces, and the two remaining aliens fell under her assault.

          Before Harrison could whisper the words trying to push their way out of his mouth, he was startled by Ironhorse's quick spin, and Uzi snapping up.

          "Re—"  Kitara stopped in mid-motion, realizing that she had lost the opportunity to seize the human she sought.

          Harrison was sure he hadn't heard anything.  So how had Paul known she was there?

          Stepping back, Kitara presented her hands, palms up.  "I am, your friend," she said.  "Doctor, Harrison Blackwood, Lieutenant Colonel, Paul Ironhorse.  I have re-turned.  I have brought another."

          "Colonel," Blackwood whispered when Paul's weapon remained trained on Kitara.

          Stepping away from the doorway, Ironhorse pressed back against the wall so the second Synth could not surprise him.

          The scientist noted the film of sweat on Paul's face and the faint tremor that shook the hands that had been steady only moments before.

          "Back off," Ironhorse hissed at the android through clenched teeth.

          Kitara took a step away.  "I am, your friend," she repeated.  "Those that you fear are de-stroyed."

          The radio clicked and Ironhorse reached down to free it from his web belt.  "Red Leader."

          "This is Red One, Red Leader," Stavrakos said.  "We're all secure, Colonel.  All bogies are down.  Repeat, all bogies are down."

          "The roof is secure, sir," Coleman added.

          "Roger, Red One.  Start a cleanup, double time.  And send a guard, we have the Synths."

          "Yes, sir," Coleman replied.

          "Call your partner in here," Ironhorse instructed Kitara, slipping the radio back onto his belt.

          "You are a-fraid," Kitara said.

          Ironhorse reached up to clutch the Uzi with both hands.  "I said, call her in here," he repeated in a low growl.

          "Paul, this isn't—"

          He cut Harrison off with a brief shake of his head.

          "Keleah.  Come," Kitara said.

          The blonde Synth walked through the doorway to join them.  Passing Ironhorse, she felt the waves of fear and anger surrounding the man and paused, her eyes searching his face.  There was more, but she couldn't sort through the layers of emotion that overloaded her circuits to identify them all.

          "With her," the colonel said, motioning Keleah to join her commander.  The Second complied.

          "Do not fear me, human.  I am, your friend.  We will help you.  We will kill those from planet Mor'tax."

          "Kitara," Harrison said, his voice imploring.  "If we could talk to your superiors, your creators.  Those who sent you here to help us—"

          "You cannot," the Synth stated.

          "Why?  If we could talk, together—"

          Kitara took another step back, a high pitched buzz accompanying the move and causing Blackwood's hands to fly up to cover his ears.  Ironhorse tried to resist, but was forced to drop the Uzi and do the same before he could get off a shot.  Stepping forward, Kitara struck the colonel's forehead, causing him to collapse to the ground.  Blackwood followed next.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Norton braked to a stop in the nearly empty parking lot of the fairgrounds, stopping next to one of the Omega troop-vans.  Coleman broke away from a group of the Special Forces soldiers and trotted over to meet them as he and Suzanne exited the Green Machine.

          "Mr. Drake, Dr. McCullough," she said stiffly.  "You were supposed to wait at the alternative safe house."

          "What's going on?" Suzanne asked, ignoring their breach of security.

          Norton glanced around.  It looked like the cleanup was done, but the soldiers were still making sweeps.  "Where are Harrison and the Colonel?" he asked.

          Coleman shifted uncomfortably and shook her head.  "We don't know."

          "Don't know?" Suzanne asked, her voice climbing slightly.

          "The aliens were destroyed," she explained.  "The Colonel called for a security team.  He said they had the Synths.  When we arrived at his location, he and Dr. Blackwood were gone."

          "And the Synths?" Norton asked, already knowing the answer.

          "Gone, too."

          "Damn," Drake breathed, catching Suzanne's eye.  The microbiologist was pale.  "You're searching for them?"

          "Of course.  Well, for some clue as to where the Synths took them," the blonde sergeant corrected.  "They aren't here."

          "Did you find anything?" Norton asked.

          Coleman shook her head.  "Not yet."

          "And you won't.  We're just going to have to wait.  Like we did for Paul," Suzanne said.

          "But he and Harrison don't know where we are," Norton reminded her.

          "And I'd feel a whole lot better if you'd both go back to that location and wait," Coleman added.

          Suzanne and Norton locked gazes.  There was a nearly imperceptible shake of the microbiologist's head.

          Norton looked at the pretty sergeant.  "No can do, Norah.  The best bet we have of getting them back safe is to play out this hand the way the Synth want us to.  We're going back to the Cottage."

          "Mr. Drake—"

          "I'm sorry," Suzanne interrupted.  "But that's the way it's going to be."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse woke to an upside-down view of a cheap hotel room.  This was _not_ how he wanted to start his day.  He blinked and tried to shut out the roaring sound in his ears.  A pair of black boots entered his field of vision.

          Kitara.

          He heard her hands clap, and he immediately fell to the carpeted floor.  With a grunt, he rolled, coming up on his feet in a crouch, hands raised to defend himself.  The android gave him a pointed look and clapped again.

          He was on his back, frozen in place, but he could see Harrison still suspended upside-down in the opposite corner of the room.  The second Synth stood next to the scientist, watching.

          "I have re-turned," Kitara said.  "We will rid this planet of those you fear."

          "Fine, then why do you need me?"

          Kitara circled around him.  "You will tell me how the battle has gone.  You will tell me what you have learned.  What has occurred between you and those from planet Mortax.  You will tell me all."

          "We're holding our own," Ironhorse said.  "We haven't found the Advocacy."

          "We.  Will.  See."

          She clapped and Ironhorse was released from the rigger.  Scrambling to his feet, he backed away, trying to focus his mind on building an impenetrable barricade to her mind probe.

          Kitara followed after him.

          There was nowhere to run.  She could freeze him in his tracks in a heartbeat.

          Ironhorse stopped, retreating in his mind to the place he'd found to fight from.  His safe place, Major Cathcart had called it, and Dr. Ridge had taught him to fortify it.[2]  Now he'd see how safe it really was.  He wasn't sure he was ready, but there was no choice.  He could not allow her to probe his mind, or she would uncover the truth.  He knew what the Qar'to had planned for mankind.

          _Help me, Grandfather_ , he pleaded silently.

          Kitara stepped up next to him and Paul felt the alien energy radiating from her.  The weird hum filled the room as she stepped behind him.  Her fingers brushed the back of his neck and he dropped to his knees, unable to stand up under the energy she focused on him.  He took a deep breath and tried to block out everything that was happening.

          He felt her aura engulf him and her hands descended, sliding along the top of his shoulders and pressing up against his neck.

          Concentrating on the chant he'd chosen to focus himself, he waited for what was sure to come.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Twelve hours," Suzanne stated unnecessarily.  Walking to the wingback chair next to the fireplace, she sank down and curled into the corner.  "Where are they?"

          Norton, seated on the couch with several magazines scattered over the cushions, looked up.  "I wish I knew.  It was twenty-four hours before the big guy found his way home the first time.  We've got to give them another twelve, at least."

          Suzanne nodded.  "I just hate sitting here, wondering what's happening…"  Their gazes met.  "I don't know if either of them can survive a repeat of the—"

          "Yeah, I know what you mean."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Kitara's eyes sparkled with an eerie brightness.  Smiling over Ironhorse's head, she nodded at Harrison.  "Probe him," she commanded Keleah before turning her attention back to the soldier kneeling before her.

          Keleah nodded and regarded Blackwood.  Something about the situation did not register correctly and she performed a quick scan even as she clapped to release the man.  Harrison fell heavily to the floor and she bent to help him stand, recognizing the irregularity.  She was angry.

          That was impossible.

          "What are you doing?" Blackwood snapped, catching sight of Kitara and Paul. He lunged toward the pair.

          Keleah clapped, freezing the astrophysicist in place.  "You cannot interfere."

          "She'll hurt him!" Harrison tried to yell.

          "Kitara only probes your colonel – for information."  She clapped again.

          Blackwood turned a seething glare on the Second, and Keleah felt the tidal wave of hate and anger.  "It is… necessary."

          "And you plan to do the same to me."

          Keleah nodded once.  Stepping behind Harrison, she clapped and he fell to his knees.  His aura shifted, fear replacing the anger.  She settled her hands into place, then manipulated the scientist's head forward and back, unblocking his energy flow and making her entry into his mind easier.

          She started to issue the command that would part his conscious defenses, but found the words trapped in her throat.  She could not.  It was wrong.

          The fear and hatred were wrong.

          She must probe him.  Kitara had given her the command.

          She broke contact and stepped around Blackwood.  Reaching out, she touched his elbow and helped him stand.

          "I want to know what has transpired in your war against those from planet Mor'tax.  Will you permit me to share your memories to know these things?"

          "Why are you asking?" Harrison asked.  "Why not just take them?  That's what you people do, isn't it?"

          "I—"  She stopped, unable to offer an explanation.  "I do not know.  Will you permit the review?"

          "Will you do anything more?" Harrison asked, wishing he could see over her shoulder to Paul and Kitara.  Somehow he doubted that Kitara had made the same request.  He had to do something.  He had to help Paul.  He couldn't go through what he had before.  The debriefing had nearly killed him, and their relationship had been strained almost to the breaking point.  Now, more than ever, Harrison knew he couldn't lose that.

          "No."

          He had to make a decision – now.  "I trust you," Harrison said.  "God knows why, but I do."

          Keleah stepped closer.  Reaching out, she took his hand and positioned his fingers so that the first and third were extended, the second and fourth curled under against his palm.  She pointed to her forehead.

          "Place your fingers here and you will be able to accompany me and see what I do."

          Harrison reached out and pressed his fingertips lightly to the Second's forehead.  The skin was warm to the touch and he was surprised.  He saw her hand come up, her fingers in the same position.  She pressed them against his forehead and he felt an odd jolt of energy.

          Suddenly she was in his mind.  The sensation caused him to sway, but she reached out with her free hand and steadied him, waiting until he adjusted to the feeling before proceeding.

          _Think back to when Kitara was here before_ , her voice echoed softly in his mind.

          It sounded like a mantra, and he felt the memories bubble up.  They rolled and tumbled in a swirling tangle of images, feelings, and sensations.  There was no language, no words, just the impressions and images all moving too quickly for him to make any logical sense of them.

          Now and again Harrison feel himself censor something, although what it was he couldn't determine.  Keleah accepted the actions, and he watched as the black bubbles rose from the frothing jumble of information and disappeared.

          Before he realized they had really started, it was over.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The attack was sudden and violent.  Ironhorse couldn't see his foe, but he could sense her all around him.  The sky of his safe place darkened menacingly and thunder growled in the distance.  He ducked into the trees and ran.

          Lightning exploded above him, but Ironhorse ignored it.  He had nothing to fear from the spirits of the sky.  Not here.

          Reaching the clearing in the pine and mixed hardwood forest, he leaped easily over the three-foot tall ring of stacked stones, landing in the large open circle the stones carved out.  Four lodge pole pine trunks pointed to the compass points from a fire pit at the center of the space.  Where each trunk touched the circle, an animal skull sat on the stones like silent sentinels, staring out vigilantly at the forest.

          In the center pit, a fire burned fiercely, the dancing orange and red flames casting a warm glow over Ironhorse.  A small crooked smile lifted his lips and he moved closer to the flames, standing next to the pit.  The forest shimmered with power.  This was _his_ place.

          He looked down at the soft moccasins he wore.  They disappeared under cammo fatigue pants.  A simple deer-leather shirt completed the outfit.  Except for the Army web-belt – the tomahawk and battle baton resting on it in their sheaths.  The mix of military and Native was not lost on him.  He was ready.  Succeed or fail, there was nothing more he could do.

          A snap of a hawthorn twig altered him to Kitara's arrival.  He didn't stop to wonder how he knew what kind of wood it was, or if it had meaning beyond the obvious.  Kitara emerged from the shadows.

          "You have learned much, Paul Ironhorse," she said, stopping outside the circle of stones.  "But you cannot hide from me.  Do not fear me, human."

          "You are not permitted to enter this space," Ironhorse said softly, then repeated it in Cherokee.  He saw the glowing eyes watching the exchange from the blackness of the forest.  His grandfather would call them spirit guides.  He hoped they would bring him the power he needed to force the Synth away.

          Kitara glanced down at the short wall, then back up at Ironhorse.  "This cannot keep me out, Paul Ironhorse."

          "Wanna bet?"

          The Synth cocked her head to one side and moved closer, pausing in front of the bear skull marking the western point of the circle.  She took a step back when an angry roar echoed out of the empty eye sockets, rolling over the land like thunder.  A large grizzly stepped free of the old bone, blocking the Synth's path.

          Kitara met Ironhorse's intense black gaze.

          "That is im-possible.  There was no wildlife in the circle."

          "Says you," Ironhorse challenged, his hand slipping to the handle of the battle baton.  "There's more here than you'll ever know.  You are not permitted here.  Go.  Now."

          Kitara walked along the wall to the southern point.  A sharp snarl stopped her, and she was forced on by the snarling wolf that stepped free of its skull.

          She continued on around the circle.  In the east Kitara dropped into a defensive stance against the screeching eagle's talons that threatened her face.  Easing past the bird, she gave the small skull on the rock a last look before reaching the northern point.

          A loud snort warned her that this beast was even bigger than its kin.  She took a step toward the circle and a large white buffalo charged free of the skull bone, keeping her at a distance.  The animal lowered its head and pawed the ground, throwing dirt up over the stone wall.  She stepped further away, finally stopping in front of the bear skull again.

          She glared at Ironhorse and demanded, "Yield to me!"

          "No," Paul snarled.  "You have no power over me here.  You cannot enter my mind."

          Kitara considered his words, calculating the resolve in his obsidian eyes.  She settled into a relaxed posture.  "I will wait, human.  You will grow tired.  I… will not."

          She had seen his weakness.  What she said was true.  The fire was already burning lower.  If he didn't force her out soon, he would be too weak.  This was still new to him, and he wasn't at all sure he could do it.  Fear nipped at the edges of his resolve.

          He blinked and the Synth's image shimmered and for a moment her saw her in a different form.  The Raven.

          _The spirit of the Raven is watching_.

          Ironhorse glanced around.  _Joseph?_

          _Call, and the spirits will come_.

          "Grandfather?"

          "Who do you call, human, hour deity?  Myths are no use to you."

          Ironhorse looked down at his hand, finding his fingers curled tightly around a prayer stick.  It wasn't Joseph Lonetree's or his grandfather's, but he knew what to do with it.

          He smiled, the black buffalo horn curving out of the oak stick reflecting the lightning still flashing overhead.  He shook the stick, the grizzly claws making a ticking sound against the wood.  The eagle feather danced on its length of leather as the wind picked up, whistling through the evergreens.  A swatch of wolf fur held the claws in place below the horn.  Another band of the fur rested just above his hand.  It was soft and warm.

          He knew what he had to do.

          Raising the stick above his head, Ironhorse shook it again.  Lightning fractured the dark skies, dancing like St. Elmo's fire above the trees.  "You will leave," he said.  "Now."

          Kitara looked up.

          Ironhorse stomped his moccasin-clad foot and the ground trembled.  The vague outlines of the four animals guarding the circle swirled out of the fog curling through the trees, their cries competing with the thunder to force her away.  Lightning flashed, striking the ground near the Synth.

          Paul held the prayer stick in both hands and concentrated on forcing Kitara out of his mind.  Nothing else mattered.  Nothing existed but him and the android.  Nothing could interfere.  Nothing else mattered…

          A blinding flash forced Ironhorse to close his eyes and the deafening crack of thunder that followed knocked him off his feet.  He felt himself falling, the stick slipping out of his fingers as the dancing colors sucked him away.

          His last thought was a humble, "Oh, shit."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          A high-pitched whine apprehended Blackwood's attention and concern.  He turned in time to see Paul slump bonelessly to the floor a moment before Kitara listed to one side, and fell stiffly against the wall.

          Ironhorse's eyes were closed, Kitara's open and unblinking.  The expression on her face was an odd combination of amazement and ecstasy that scared Blackwood.  He scrambled for Paul while Keleah walked to her commander's side and questioned Kitara in their native language.  There was no reply.

          "What happened?" Harrison demanded, carefully scooping Paul up to cradle him in his arms.  The soldier's limp body was warm to the touch, like he was running a fever, but he wasn't flushed or sweating.

          "I do not know," Keleah said, reaching out to press several points on the android's body.  "He appears to have overloaded Kitara's circuits."

          Harrison's head snapped up, his arms tightening around Paul.  "You mean he destroyed her?"

          "No," Keleah said, maneuvering Kitara to the bed, then manipulating several more points to force her to sit.  "Kitara is presently unable to process the information she obtained from Colonel Ironhorse.  The impulses have blocked her circuits and caused a shutdown.  She will regain full function in five to six Earth hours."

          "Then we have to go – now.  I—"

          "I will not permit you to disassemble Kitara, Harrison Blackwood."

          "How—?"

          "I read it in your thoughts.  I cannot permit it."

          "You saw what she did to him," Harrison argued, glancing down at the dark head that lolled limply against his shoulder.  There was something impossibly child-like and vulnerable in the peaceful expression and disheveled black hair.

          "Yes," Keleah said softly.  "It… was wrong.  Kitara did not know."

          Harrison was ready to argue the point further, but the sudden explosion that lifted the motel door off its hinges and slammed it against the far wall stalled the words in his throat.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Norton sat in front of the Cray, staring intently at a point three inches in front of the screen.  A graphic alien warship rounded the corner of the quiet street showing on the monitor.  The hacker blinked, and the warship destroyed his defensive position with Drake never having fired a shot.  "Game Over" flashed across the screen.

          "Yeah, it is," he said, reaching for the keyboard.

          Music filled the basement and the screen shifted.  Norton's full attention focused on the information suddenly playing across several windows as the Cray triangulated the latest alien transmission.

          "Come on, come on," he said softly.

          Suzanne rushed into the basement from upstairs to join him.  "What?"

          "Don't know yet," he said.  "A transmission… somewhere in… California."

          Suzanne folded her arms over her chest and stared at the screen – her best Harrison Blackwood impersonation.

          "Northern California," Drake added.  "I don't like the sound of that already."

          "Tell me about it," the microbiologist concurred.

          "There," Norton said, typing across the keys.  "The transmission originated just outside San Leandro."  He looked up.  "That's about ten, maybe fifteen minutes from the fairgrounds."

          Suzanne stepped up to the phone and scooped it up.  "Sergeant Derriman?  We have transmissions.  San Leandro.  Yes.  We'll be ready in five."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stepped away from Kitara, moving past Harrison and the unconscious Ironhorse and taking up a defensive position as the blended aliens burst in.  Her battle hum sprang to life.

          Harrison scrambled for the far side of the bed, dragging Ironhorse with him and hoping something between he and Paul and the attacking aliens was better than nothing.

          He heard Keleah fire her weapons and the answering death scream from the aliens.  He wasn't sorry.  But if she failed…

          Reaching down, Harrison slipped the battle baton free of its sheath on Paul's web belt.  He glanced briefly at the Beretta resting in the soldier's holster, but couldn't bring himself to take it.

          Around him the sounds of battle continued, and Harrison pulled Paul further into the corner, trying to shield his body as best he could and still watch for the aliens.  Keleah's hum rose and fell.  The aliens continued to come, two crashing through the windows across the room.  Harrison gripped the large knife tightly and dared a peek over the side of the bed.

          Kitara still sat where Keleah had positioned her.  The blonde synth shifted lithely from position to position, her energy blots making short work of the Mortaxans.  Occasionally she ducked and changed the focus of her attack when one of the aliens leveled an odd looking weapon in her direction.

          Suddenly the room fell silent.  He looked up over the bed.  The battle seemed to have gone on for hours, but when Harrison glanced at the blinking digital clock only seven minutes had passed.  In the distance he could hear sirens and knew the authorities were coming.

          "We must go," Keleah said.

          "Where?" Blackwood demanded, leaning Paul into the corner and standing nervously.

          The Synth considered that question, obviously having her own difficulties reaching a decision.

          "The Cottage," Harrison said at last.

          Keleah's head tilted to the side.  "That would be an un-acceptable risk," she said.

          She sounded like Ironhorse.  "There's no place else to go.  The soldiers will protect us from the aliens and you'll have to make sure she leaves us alone," he told her, nodding at Kitara.

          "Kitara will be no danger to you.  Those from Mortax can find me with their sensors.  I cannot stay with you long.  I cannot endanger you."  She stepped up to her commander and opened a panel on Kitara's back.  In a few moments she was done and nodded toward the door.  "We will go.  Then I will decide what to do."

          Harrison lifted Paul into his arms.  It was a struggle; the colonel was heavier than he appeared, but Blackwood managed to carry him out to the parking lot.  Keleah chose a car, pulled the doors open, audible popping the lock and maneuvered Kitara into the passenger's seat.  Harrison laid Paul in the back seat and slid in after him.

          "You know how to drive?" he asked when Keleah slipped behind the wheel.

          "No," she said, meeting the scientist's concerned expression in the rearview mirror.  "But your colonel does."

          Reaching out, she cupped her hand over the ignition and a brief hum echoed in the car before the motor turned over.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Stay back, please," Stavrakos said, blocking Suzanne and Norton from getting any closer to the Sleepy Tyme Motel.  "I haven't gotten an all-clear yet."

          Suzanne nodded and took a step back, but Norton stayed right where he was – two inches off the sergeant's polished boots.

          Coleman trotted up, her Uzi slung over her shoulder on its strap.  It was clear.

          She nodded to Stavrakos.  "It's clear.  Come with me, please," she said to Norton and Suzanne, leading the way back to the ramshackle room.

          Three more of the Omegans exited as Coleman and Suzanne entered.  Norton opted to remain in the doorway.  Given the large number of goo puddles spread across the faded carpet, he was sure he couldn't avoid running Gertrude through at least some of it.

          "There's no sign of them," Coleman said, letting Suzanne wander around the battle site.  "The manager said that the Colonel and Dr. Blackwood were here with two women.  About two hours later three vans arrived.  Someone blew the door open and, as he says, an army poured into the room.  Given the number of remains we counted I'd guess fifteen to eighteen aliens.  It looks like the Synths were able to hold their own."

          "Any idea where'd they go?" Norton asked.

          "Manager said that after the commotion all four of them left – stole a car."

          "Paul stole a car?" Suzanne repeated.

          Coleman looked uncomfortable, but continued.  "From his description it sounds like the Colonel was carried out by Dr. Blackwood.  And Kitara might have been injured.  The second Synth took the car."

          Suzanne turned back to look at Norton.

          "We have people at the fairgrounds, and a unit at the original landing site.  We'll find them," Coleman said, the last coming out as a determined growl.

          "The Cottage?" Suzanne asked.

          Drake nodded.  "Be my guess."

          "Why?" Coleman asked.

          Suzanne looked back at the sergeant.  "I don't know, but there really isn't anyplace else for them to go."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Derriman dismissed the guard after Blackwood and the unconscious colonel passed the radiation and heat sensor check.  He didn't like the idea of the two androids being at the Cottage, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

          "We're taking Paul into the house," Harrison said, his gaze locking on the senior sergeant's and daring him to challenge the remark.

          "Yes, sir, and I'm comin' along."

          Blackwood nodded and gratefully accepted the help.  Carrying Ironhorse into the Cottage, they laid him on one of the sofas in the living room.  Harrison left Derriman watching the two Synths and headed for the colonel's room, with a hurried, "I'll be right back."

          Harrison paused just inside the door.  It always struck him just how complicated Ironhorse really was when he entered Paul's private space.  Unlike the colonel's office, which while comfortable and revealing, gave little away about the deeper nature of the man, the bedroom was another case altogether.  Maybe that was why they seldom made love here, opting for Harrison's more chaotic, depersonalized living space.

          The dark wood furniture was deep and rich and the pieces sparse, but the room did not look barren.  The objects carefully positioned across their surfaces and the various photographs and items hanging on the wall were more revealing.  They told the story of a man who had known life and death at their pinnacles – a man who walked in many different worlds.

          Pushed by the need to return to Paul's side, Harrison carefully lifted the woven Indian blanket from the foot of the double bed and left, closing the door behind him.

          Back in the living room, he found Keleah working over Kitara while Derriman sat with Ironhorse.  The older sergeant looked worried and distrustful of the android.

          "Any change?" Harrison asked, spreading the blanket over Paul.

          Derriman shook his head.  "Doctor, with these two here… don't you think we should get an evacuation planned?"

          Blackwood knew the sergeant's concerns were valid, but he didn't think the Synths were going to stay long enough to pose a danger with respect to the Mortaxans.  "Plan, and get ready, but we don't go anywhere until I say so."

          Derriman nodded.  "I'd feel better if someone stayed here with you and the Colonel," he said, glancing briefly at the two androids.

          Blackwood nodded.  "Fine by me, Sergeant, just tell them to stay out of the way unless there's trouble."

          "I'll send Alverez in," Derriman said, heading for the phone.  When the corporal arrived, the sergeant left to make the necessary arrangements and beef up security, just in case.

          Harrison made Paul as comfortable as possible.  There didn't appear to be anything wrong with him, physically, but God only knew what Kitara had done to his mind.

          "What are you doing?" he asked Keleah, looking up from the relaxed, but slightly perplexed expression on Ironhorse's face.

          "Deactivating Kitara.  There is no longer a threat to Colonel Ironhorse."

          "You can do that?"

          Keleah looked over at Harrison.  "It is not something I thought I could do.  I do it.  Therefore I can."

          Blackwood almost smiled.  "What are you called?  She's Kitara, you're…?"

          "Keleah," she replied.

          "Thank you, Keleah, for helping us."

          Before the Synth could respond, Suzanne and Norton burst through the front door and headed straight for the living room.  Harrison scooped Suzanne into a tight hug, then shook hands with Norton and gave him a hearty slap on the back.

          "It's good to see you, Doc," Drake said, watching Suzanne drop down next to the couch to check Ironhorse.  "How's the big guy?"

          "I don't know."  The three words were edged with pain and desperation.  While Harrison was on his own he'd managed to hold it together.  Paul would have expected no less, but now, back in the Cottage, back with Suzanne and Norton and Omega…  Harrison stopped, his words tangling in his throat.  He shook his head and shrugged.

          Suzanne looked up.  "Did she…?"

          Harrison repeated the two gestures.  "I don't know."

          The microbiologist stood and turned to watch Keleah working over Kitara.  "We ought to dismantle that… _thing_."

          Keleah's head came up.  "Do not be angry, Suz-anne.  Kitara is no threat to you or Colonel Ironhorse."

          "The aliens get her?" Norton asked, rolling closer to the two androids.  If he could just get a good look at the circuitry…

          "No.  Kitara tried to… probe, Paul," Harrison said softly.  "I don't know what happened.  He collapsed like he is now and she ended up like that."

          "He forced her out," Keleah said.  "He prevented Kitara from accessing the information she sought.  He overloaded her circuits."

          Suzanne couldn't stop the half-feral smile that curled her lips.  "Good."

          "But he hasn't come to," Harrison added.

          Suzanne turned back, looking down at the colonel.  "We could call Uncle Hank.  Maybe he could send Rachael, or Dr. Poe?"

          Harrison shook his head.  "I don't think they can help."

          "We have to try," she argued.

          "He came through before," Norton added.  "He'll make it again."

          Keleah studied Ironhorse's energy aura for a moment.  "He is lost in a space he created," she said, stepping away from Kitara for the first time.

          "Lost?" Norton asked.

          Harrison stepped across to stand next to the Synth.  "You know where he is?"

          Keleah's head cocked to the side.  "No.  To stop Kitara's probe he created a space outside himself.  It is… a buffer.  Kitara could not penetrate this space.  The attempt overloaded her circuits and caused the shutdown."

          "Can you find this buffer space?" Harrison asked, reaching out to grip the android's shoulders.

          "Possible, but I cannot."

          "Then we've lost him," Suzanne said quietly, "unless he can find his own way back."

          "Why can't you?" Harrison demanded.

          "It would be no different than Kitara's action.  It would be wrong."

          "Hey, she started it," Norton argued, "and now you're saying that you can do whatever it is you do and find him, but you won't because doing it's wrong, but Kitara doing it was what created the problem in the first place?"

          "Ex-plain."

          Harrison felt the corners of him mouth tug upward.  He knew what Norton was saying, even if Keleah didn't.  He turned back to the Synth.  "Keleah, if you can get inside Paul's mind and help him find his way back, that's not wrong."

          "Entering another's thoughts uninvited is wrong.  I saw that clearly in your thoughts, Harrison Blackwood.  He cannot give me permission."

          "Because he's lost.  If the situation was reversed, I know Paul would tell you to go in and find me.  I give you permission to do it."

          "I must consider," the Synth said and paced off.

          Harrison had done his best.  He walked over to stand next to Suzanne at the couch.  Norton rolled to join them.

          Keleah returned to the threesome.  "What is that?"

          "What?" Suzanne asked, her gaze skipping over herself and the others.

          "This energy emanation… emotion you are experiencing," she clarified.

          "Huh, fear?" Norton asked.

          "Concern.  Worry," Suzanne added.

          Keleah's head tilted slightly.  "No.  I recognize the pattern for fear and worry. There is another.  Stronger…"

          "Love," Harrison said softly.  "It's called love."

          "Will you tell me more about this… love?"

          "Yes," Harrison said quietly.

          She considered, then nodded once.  "I will try."

          Harrison sighed in relief.  "Thank you."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse staggered through the howling storm, trying to find shelter.  Above him the sky ripped and cried, lightning snapping whip-like to strike the tree tops.  These spirits of the sky were a different bunch.  Thunder rumbled, vibrating through the ground and nearly shaking him off his feet.

          _Great_ , he thought.  _Where the hell am I?_

          The last thing he remembered was Kitara.  He'd had a prayer stick and…

          He called on the spirits to help him force Kitara out of his mind, but somehow he'd lost control and now he was lost… someplace.

          _I knew I shouldn't have played around with this stuff_ , he chided himself.  Still it had worked, and it had felt… right.

          _Grandfather?_ he called silently.

          There was no reply.

          He stopped, taking shelter near a large felled pine.  There was still no rain, only lightning, and dark shadows clinging to the forest around him.  Now and then the sounds of animals echoed out of the trees, threatening and close.

          This was _not_ his safe place.

          If he could find the prayer stick, or the circle, maybe he could get back to where he was supposed to be.

          _Which is?_ he asked himself.

          _Hell if I know.  Joseph made this look easy._

          _You must be one with the spirits_.

          _Joseph?_

          _Embrace the power, Paul Ironhorse.  It belongs to you._

          The wind picked up and Ironhorse found himself being pelted by rocks, sticks and other debris.  He reached out, clinging to the rough tree trunk.  Pine cones and larger rocks beat painfully against his back, and he ducked his head to protect himself.

          He tried to pull himself farther under the cover of the trunk, but there wasn't enough room.

          A loud growl echoed over the thunder.  Squinting to keep the grit out of his eyes, Paul scanned the shadows, trying to locate the animal that had made the noise.

          With a growing sense of panic, he watched a large grizzly emerge from the trees.  The bear rose, padding forward on its hind feet.

          "Oh, shit."

          A wolf trotted out to join the bear, its yellow eyes regarding Ironhorse intently.

          "Nice wolf."

          A loud snort caused Paul to whirl.  A white buffalo stood behind him.  It pawed the earth once, the huge head shaking from side to side.

          "Mother fuck."

          An eagle's cry sounded as the bird of prey swooped down and settled on the log next to Ironhorse.  The soldier looked down at the long talons and swallowed hard.  These were supposed to be his spirit guides – they were supposed to be his friends.

          A distant whinny wrapped around him, warm and comforting, and Ironhorse held his breath, waiting to see what happened next.

          Before his chest started to burn a large, shining blue-black mare galloped into the small clearing.  A black-spotted white owl rode on the horse's back.

          The mare stopped, rearing.  Obsidian hooves lashed out above Paul's head and he ducked.  The other animals watched, unconcerned.

          With a snort and shake of her head the mare galloped off, disappearing into the trees, the owl still unruffled.

          _Remember, grandson, life is a journey.  There are many beginnings and ends.  Call on the spirits.  Own them, and they'll aid you.  Trust your inner voice.  It cannot lie._

          _Grandfather?!_

          The wind whistled louder, and Paul forced himself to stand.  The storm raged on.  The animals were gone, the blonde Synth standing in their place.

          And he had nowhere to run.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah moved to stand next to the couch.  With a dancer's grace, she sat down on the narrow space next to Ironhorse and reached out to touch his forehead with her fingers.

          She stopped, looking up at Blackwood.  "And if he does not listen to me?"

          "He has to," Harrison said, his voice rough.  "I can't lose him."

          She ducked her head, the sudden wave of emotion radiating from Blackwood nearly overwhelming her.  It was a peculiar kind of pain, one she did not want to continue.

          She pressed her fingers to Ironhorse's forehead.  Ironhorse sucked in a sharp breath.  Keleah closed her eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stepped purposefully through the woods, stopping when she finally reached Ironhorse.

          "You must come with me," she said.

          "No!" was the immediate reply as the soldier dropped into a defensive crouch.  "I won't yield to you, either."

          "I do not ask you to yield, Ironhorse.  I will help you."

          "How, you going to pry into my mind, take information, leave commands?"

          "No, I will not do that.  It was wrong.  Kitara was wrong."

          "I won't go anywhere with you," he snarled.

          "But you must.  They love you."

          That captured Ironhorse's attention.  His eyes narrowed as he studied the Second.  "Who are you?"

          "I am Keleah.  Will you come with me?"

          "Where?"

          Keleah looked taken aback.  She blinked, obviously searching her data.  Finally, her head came up and she met Ironhorse's gaze.  "I do not know.  This is your… space."

          The perplexed, concerned expression on the Synth's face helped push the fear back, and Paul eased out of the crouch.  It was his space?

          _I guess it is_ , he thought, _but I sure as hell don't recognize it._

          The storm crashed around them, but the oppressive foreboding was gone.  If he concentrated he could see the clouds parting.  The wind died down.

          "Are you lost?" she asked.

          The immediate temptation was to say no, but he swallowed that.  "Uh, I think so."

          Keleah's head cocked to one side.  "Oh."

          That's exactly how I feel, he thought.  Glancing over his shoulder at the brightening woods, he knew he had to make a decision.  Trust her or run.

          He met Keleah's bright green eyes.  She certainly didn't look like Kitara.  She was light, Kitara shadow.  The look was… innocent, like a child.  But she was no child.  She was an android.  A machine sent from another planet – a planet whose inhabitants wanted to use them like cattle.

          "I will not betray you, Paul Ironhorse."

          The black eyebrows climbed.  "You read my thoughts?"

          "Everything here is thought."

          That tugged a whisper of a smile from the soldier.  "Yeah, I guess I forgot."  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  It felt right to trust her.  "Okay, come on.  Let's see if we can find my medicine circle."

          "You know where it is," Keleah said.

          Ironhrose blinked.  He was standing in the center of the circle.  "Yeah, I guess I do…"

          "May I enter?"

          He nodded, watching as she stepped over the short stone wall and joined him near the fire.  It snapped lively, the flames dancing.  "Why are you helping us?"

          Keleah stared into the flames.  "I do not know.  What the Masters plan is wrong.  What Kitara did for the Masters was wrong."  Her head came up, the green eyes imploring.  "Why are these things wrong?  What is love?"

          That broke the lopsided grin free.  "Keleah, philosophers and poets have been haggling over what love means since the beginning.  I don't have an answer.  As for why this is wrong… I guess that's—"

          "May I share your thoughts?" she asked.  "I will only observe.  It is the best way for me to take in new data."

          A cold chill ran down his spin, but he felt no malice.  He nodded once, slowly.

          "Thank you," she said.  Her hand came up carefully, gently touching his forehead.

          Ironhorse felt the connection as it established itself.  Unlike Kitara's probe, the link with Keleah was… gentle, he decided, almost ephemeral in its delicacy.

          _Tell me why what we have done is wrong.  I want to understand._

          All the feelings of violation and betrayal rose in Ironhorse's mind, the fear and hatred knowing the real intensions of the Qar'to generated, the pain of the debriefing and its aftermath, the healing…

          He let his mind drift, moving from topic to topic, emotion to emotion in a random fashion.  He could feel Keleah there with him, observing, but never interfering.  When the feelings and images came to an end he found himself floating above his body.

          Keleah and he stood, face to face, their fingers touching each other's foreheads.  The storm had passed and the sun streaked through the breaking clouds.  The fire burned higher.

          _I will teach you_.

          He looked to his left and saw Keleah floating next to him.  That surprised him.  She had a soul?

          _Teach me?_

          _I will show you how we follow the energy into your mind.  No Synth will be able to probe you again.  Unless you permit it as you have with me._

          There was an instant swirl of color and disorientating sensations, but he knew in that instant how it had been done, and that it never could be again.  The knowledge resonated with his own work – the safe place.  It was a good feeling.

          _Will you show me love?_

          Paul smiled.  How to do that?

          He felt the colors flow together and part and he knew.  He let his mind carry them into the emotion.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stood and stepped back from the couch.  Harrison, Suzanne, and Norton inched closer.

          Ironhorse's eyes blinked open and his head turned, the glistening obsidian eyes searching out the other Project members.

          Harrison stepped forward, helping Ironhorse up so he was sitting.  "Paul, are you all right?"

          The colonel nodded and smiled.  "Yes."

          He stood, and Harrison pulled him into a tight hug.  When he was released, Suzanne took the astrophysicist's place.

          "Hey, my turn," Norton said.

          Suzanne stepped back, wiping the tears off her cheeks.  Ironhorse grinned at Norton and took the proffered hand, giving it a firm squeeze and shake.  "Way to go, big guy."

          Harrison looked to Keleah, who was watching them with an expression he couldn't decipher.  "Anything wrong?" he asked her.

          "No, Harrison Blackwood.  Nothing is wrong, but we must do two more things before the danger is past."

          "What?" Ironhorse asked.

          "We must return Kitara to the landing site so she will return to Qar'to."

          "And?" Norton asked.

          "You must deactivate me, so those from planet Mortax cannot locate me."

          "Deactivate you?" Harrison almost gasped.  "Keleah, no.  There's so much we have to talk about.  So much we can teach each other."

          "It is so," she agreed.  "But I am a danger to you.  As long as I am active I can be tracked.  And…"  She paused, looking almost curious.  "…I do not know if the Masters can access me.  If they can, I would be a danger to you.  I cannot bring harm to you, or other humans."

          Ironhorse's teeth ground.  She was right.  But he'd rather have the Synth on their side and killing the aliens.  If she could hunt the Advocates down…  Still, the bottom line was saving lives.

          "What do we do with Kitara?"

          "We must return to our arrival location before tomorrow evening."

          Ironhorse nodded.  "Then let's get moving, people.  We don't have a lot of time."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The chopper flight to the Nevada site was accomplished easily with Omega's help.  The weather was similar to when the Synths had arrived, and lightning strobbed across the nearby mountains.

          Keleah manipulated Kitara along to the exact spot.  Opening a panel on the android's back, the Second reached in and removed several small pieces of equipment.

          "What are you doing?" Harrison asked.

          "I am removing the information collected from this mission.  She will return with no memory of what has happened to her.  The Masters will not know what has occurred."

          "Will they send her back?" Suzanne asked.

          Keleah thought for a moment.  "Perhaps.  But the folds in space we must use will not fold back for twenty-two earth months."

          "That's…"  Harrison trailed off, calculating.  "February of 1994."

          "Yes," Keleah replied.  "Then Kitara will come again."

          "That'll be an invasion, won't it," Paul asked.

          "It is… possible.  The Masters will know you have defeated Kitara.  They will think I was de-stroyed."

          "Will you help us then?" Harrison asked, shrugging deeper into his jacket as the rain began to fall.

          "Yes."

          Keleah left Kitara standing on the short grassy knoll and led the Project members several yards away.  In less than a minute a swirling disk of undulating colors sprang into existence above Kitara.  The Synth's long black hair blew wildly in the gusting wind.  A flash of light struck the ground, then blinked out.  Kitara and the disk were gone.  Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain fell harder.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "You're sure about this?" Harrison asked Keleah.  Around them in the comfortable office at the private Hamlin Foundation, the other Project members waited for her answer.

          "Yes.  It is not death as you know it, Harrison Blackwood.  I will… sleep."

          "Sort of like Snow White, huh?" Norton asked.

          The blonde head tilted to the side in a familiar gesture of confusion.  "Snow is white, is it not?"

          Harrison grinned.  "Never mind.  It's a reference to a cultural myth."

          Keleah nodded.  "I would like to know more when I am reactivated."

          Harrison nodded to Dr. Cedar Ridge, the director of the high-powered research foundation.  "I'm sure you'll be in excellent hands here with Dr. Ridge."

          Keleah regarded the woman for a moment.  "Yes, I am sure that is true."  She looked to each of the Project members in turn.  "I hope to see you again.  To victory."

          "To victory," Paul said somberly, nodding to Dr. Ridge.

          Cedar reached out and removed the small piece of circuitry that shut the blonde Sythn down.  Keleah's eyes closed and she froze.

          "Why do I feel like we just killed her," Suzanne asked quietly.

          "Think positive," Harrison countered, swallowing the lump in his throat.  "She's just sleeping."

          "We'll take good care of her," Cedar said.  "And she'll be here, if you need her."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Rising from his two hour nap, Harrison headed down stairs to try and get caught up on his report to General Wilson.  If he didn't finish it soon, Ironhorse was going to use him on the firing range as a target.  Why he had to turn in a report when Paul was doing one, he couldn't fathom.  It was just another example in the endless list he kept in his mind, detailing military stupidities.

          Entering his office, Harrison immediately felt something was wrong.  _No, not wrong_ , he corrected.  _Out of place?_

          He started to reach for the Nautilus shell lamp, but a familiar hand reached out to stop him.

          "Wait," Ironhorse's voice echoed out of the darkness.

          "Paul, are you all right?"

          "Fine, Harrison."

          The voice was amused.  Strong fingers closed over his wrist and Blackwood let himself be moved away from the lamp.  Lips brushed his, then Paul's arms slipped around his chest and he found himself being held tightly.

          "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

          Paul nodded against his chest, then a ghostly whisper asked, "Do you think we killed her?"

          "I don't know," was the equally soft reply.  "I hope not.  We have so much to learn from her.  If we did…"

          "She's like a soldier.  She knew the risks."

          "I hope you're right."

          "I wasn't afraid when she came for me.  It was like I knew her."

          Harrison shook his head.  "I can't explain it.  I trusted her, too."

          "She had a soul."

          He hugged Ironhorse closer in the darkness.  "I think so."

          "I saw it," Paul said, pulling away slightly.  His fingers sought out the buttons on Blackwood's flannel shirt.  There was a soft answering moan.  "My heart's not afraid anymore, Harrison."

          "And I know what you've got on your mind," Harrison teased, reaching out to undo the buttons on Paul's shirt.  He pushed the fabric off the strong shoulders.  "But just a minute here."

          "What?"

          "I refuse to give up the view, Colonel."

          "View?"

          "The light."

          There was a longsuffering sigh.  "Where's your sense of adventure, Blackwood?"

          "Where's your sense of aesthetic appreciation?" he countered, flipping the switch on. 

          Paul blinked and squinted while his eyes adjusted.  "Hrumph…"

          Harrison reached out, resting a hand on the colonel's bare shoulder, his thumb rubbing along the smooth skin.  Blackwood nodded.  "Beautiful."

          The burning blue eyes made Paul blush.

          Harrison's hand slid down Paul's chest, then squeezed his groin lightly through the jeans.

          Ironhorse felt his heart kick and pick up speed.  He was already getting hard. He knelt slightly, his fingers expertly working the zipper fly open, then sliding back to pull the jeans over Harrison's hips.

          Blackwood stepped free of the clothes, his gaze dropping to the swelling bulge in Paul's pants.  He watched while Ironhorse quickly stepped out of the jeans. Without speaking, Ironhorse reached out and caressed Blackwood's bare shoulders. The scientist moaned, swaying slightly.

          Paul gently guided him to the couch, and Harrison sank down gratefully, falling back after a playful push.  Hands wandered up his leg, then descended on his crotch, teasing and skittering away.

          Blackwood closed his eyes and let Paul ease the underwear down.  Ironhorse grinned, working his way back up the calves, letting his fingers slide through the soft hair, and tickling behind the knees.  Harrison sucked in a sharp breath, then sighed with pleasure.

          Paul watched Harrison grow hard as he stroked the muscled thighs.  The legs fell open, giving him the room he needed to maneuver.  He reached in, teasing at the heavy balls.  The curly head rolled slowly from side to side.  Paul let his fingers brush feather-light over Harrison's cock, smiling as the hips pressed up slightly.

          "Ahhh," Harrison breathed.  "That feels good."

          Paul chuckled.  "I know."  His hands traced circles over the lightly quivering belly.  He leaned over, kissing along the ribs, then ran the tip of his tongue over Blackwood's chest, making sure he brushed both hard nipples.

          "Oh, God," Harrison moaned.

          Reaching under Blackwood, he squeezed the firm cheeks.  The scientist arched up, allowing him to reach further.  As he did, Ironhorse gave into temptation, bowing his head, the tip of his tongue brushed Harrison's parted lips and winning him another, more desperate moan.  He pressed his lips down, grinding.  Harrison pressed back.  They were both breathing hard.

          Harrison arched up, pressing his cock firmly against Paul's.  The colonel pulled back.

          "Not so fast."

          Feather kisses roamed over Blackwood's face and necks.  They moved to collarbones, and back to the aching nipples.  Tongue-tip circled, then pressed, lips sucked, teeth nipped gently, and Harrison tossed his head, his body flushing a soft pink.

          "Paul…" he groaned.

          Ironhorse saw the swelled cock, and traced a fingertip along its length.  Harrison moaned, his hips bucking.  Reaching down, Ironhorse carefully squeezed and pulled until the cock stood, red and pulsing, a milky white drop at the tip reflecting the lamp light.

          Paul's fingers kneaded over the quivering butt cheek, one finger targeting the sensitive sphincter and pressed.  Blackwood choked back a cry, his hips coming up off the couch, pressing them together.

          They parried, lips grinding, then pulling back while they reveled in the taste of each other.  Paul's finger pressed deeper.  Harrison's hips lifted and together they created a rhythm of pleasure and need.

          Blackwood's hand pressed between them, closing on Paul's cock, and pumped.

          "Oh God," Paul moaned.

          Harrison's fingers tightened, his hips driving while Paul's finger burrowed in the warmth of his ass.

          Ironhorse pressed in deeper, sucking Harrison's lower lip at the same time.  With a strangled cry Harrison humped forward, coming.  At the first salty blast against his own cock Paul felt himself explode.

          Harrison's arms wrapped around Paul, clinging as they rode the wave down.

          "God, you make me feel good," Harrison said softly.

          Ironhorse chuckled.  "And you know how to make a mess."

          "Me?"

          "Mmmm."  The black eyes were playful.  "I seem to recall an aborted shower exercise."

          Harrison grinned.  "No time like the present to make that up."

          "My sentiments exactly, Doctor."

          "Lead on," Blackwood said, gasping as Paul climbed off him.

  


* * *

[1]  "Embracing the Snake"

[2]  See the Mind Games arc, four stories dealing with psychics and psychic abilities.  "Compliments of the Night Hawk," "An Exercise of Mind," "Sorcerers Apprentice," and "On Campus Maneuvers." 


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